Everything I do,

Is not for me.

Everything I do,

Is for other people.

People don't know,

but they shouldn't get too close,

or they will get hurt.

They don't know the dark scary thoughts

I want to get rid of so badly,

or the fact that I cry myself to sleep every night.

They will never understand the lonliness,

or all the times I've had a heartache

let alone a heart break.

I make it so that I don;t do anything for me,

but always for other people;

just wanting thewir acceptance and love.

The fact thatI never think of myself is hard.

I've always craved to look in the mirror and,

just once,

look at the reflection,

and to look and feel beautiful.

But I can't.

That would be selfish.

People would look down upon me like they always do,

causing me to try harder.

To try harder to be unselfish.

But for once in my life,

I desire to be selfish.

And I finally got that chance.

The one and only time a guy likes me for a change,

And I don't mean any like,

more like loves me.

And foolishly I ran with it,

forgetting that once I grasp what's in store,

that ray of sunshine disappears.

And it did.

And even though it was fun wile it lasted,

I get constant reminders that it was a lie.

Just something to let go,

because all he truely wanted was one thing.

No,

I don't believe so.

And if it is then show me the proof,

before the judgement!

Because I've only ever been looked at like a monster;

like someone who is undeserving.

Well just this once I want to keep him.

Just this once I want to enjoy life

and not be forced to crawl into my dark place.

I fear that next time I get there,

I won't be able to be rescued.

But it's too late now,

my sunshine is fading.

I'm back in my dark place,

yet no one gives a crap

just like before.

No one can hear me

crying and screaming

on the inside;

but on the outside,

it's like nothing has changed.

As long as I can keep

everyone else around me happy,

no one but me,

needs to know of the dangerous thoughts,

or my self given cuts and bruises.

But the longer those stay,

the closer to the bottom of my dark place is.

That place they say only brave cowards go.

And even though I try to resisit it,

It keeps calling my name.

And once I decide,

whether to go or not,

no one will try to stop me,

nor will they care.

All they will notice

is that they were happier before,

btu that that feeling will soon fade away

and be replaced soon enough.

But it's a possibility.

I could just do it.

Just go and get it over with.

But not now, I simply can't;

for I'm just a coward,

no where near brave enough.

But when I do finally go,

I hope people remember that everthing I do,

is not for me,

but for all of you.